


In the Corner of Your Eye

by MarTheGhost



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bottom Castiel, Castiel & Gabriel Are Brothers, Castiel and Dean Winchester Grow Up Together, Dean and Sam are hunters, Destiel - Freeform, Drunk John Winchester, F/F, F/M, Ghost Castiel, Human Gabriel, M/M, Pansexual Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Sabriel - Freeform, Top Dean Winchester, Young Winchesters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 03:52:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2334236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarTheGhost/pseuds/MarTheGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are those things that seem to be there, but never are. You see someone out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn your head, there's only air. That seems normal, right? But what if you were alone, and when you turned your head, you very suddenly weren't?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Close Souls

Age: 8

Dean had always had a gun in his hand, or in arms reach. He was taught to kill first, ask later. They traveled everywhere, hunting all creatures that shouldn't exist. 

But there was always something on his mind, something that meant that he wasn't always alone, even when he was. The hair on his arms always stood on edge, muscles always tense. This may be because he always had try to dodge his fathers drunken punches, grabbing Sammy and locking both of themselves into the motel bathroom. Of course, John would always slam on the door, too much in a drunken haze to even consider picking the lock. While Sammy would cry, Dean would shush him and sing him 'Hey Jude', and he would fall asleep almost instantly.

~•

Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, flipping through channels while Sam was drawing behind him

"Having fun, Sammy?" Dean asked, turning around and giving up on the crappy TV.

"Don't look!" Sam yelled, covering the paper with his tiny frame. Dean held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, ok, I won't look." He turned back around.

A few minutes later Sam piped up "Ok, now you can look," Dean turned back around and picked up the paper. Before he could get a good look, John barged in, swaying on his feet.

"Dean, where the fuck is the food?" He slurred, coming towards Dean with a raised fist. Dean tucked and rolled, grabbing Sammy and taking him into the bathroom. Sam was quiet. 

"Are you ok, Sammy?" Dean asked, not unlike a mother would after they've seen their child fall off the monkey bars.

"Mhm," he nodded, jumping a bit as John started slamming on the door. "Dean, opputthe fucking door!" He yelled, and Sam started crying. "Hey, hey, hey, it's okay, sh sh sh shhhhh," he hushed, rocking him back and forth. Doing the only thing he could do, he started singing.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better  
Remember to let her into your heart  
Then you can start to make it better,"

He sung with a shaky voice, Johns pounding fading into the background as he focused on calming down Sammy. 

"Hey Jude, don't be afraid

You were made to go out and get her  
The minute you let her under your skin  
Then you begin to make it better,"

Sammy's tears had stopped.

Dean continued to sing.

"And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain

Don't carry the world upon your shoulders  
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool  
By making his world a little colder  
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah,"

Sammy's breathing had evened, his body limp. Johns fist had given rest, his snores heard from the other side of the door.

Dean moved to make Sammy more comfortable, but something crinkled in his hand. He looked at it, realizing there was a crushed paper between his fingers. He opened it quietly, looking at Sam to make sure he didn't wake him. Dean flattened the paper, looking at the drawing. It was the one Sam was drawing, and it brought tears to Deans eyes. It was him and Sam, holding hands and smiling near a playground.

Dean hugged the paper, and sang once more.

"Hey Jude, don't let me down

You have found her, now go and get her  
Remember to let her into your heart.  
Then you can start to make it better

So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin

You're waiting for someone to perform with  
And don't you know that it's just you, hey Jude, you'll do  
The movement you need is on your shoulder  
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah yeah

Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better  
Remember to let her under your skin  
Then you'll begin to make it  
Better better better better better better, oh"

He got up off the floor, looking under the sink for towels that could work as blankets and pillows. He moved Sam's head, making a pillow for him and throwing another over him. He didn't stir.

Next he went to the sink to splash cold water on his face, feeling as though someone else besides Sammy was there. He looked into the mirror and froze.

There was a face in the mirror, a face that wasn't Deans.

He had dark, unruly hair and almost white skin. He looked about Deans age, give or take a few years. But the thing that stopped him were the boys eyes. They were an unworldly blue, bluer than the sky.

The boy tilted his head, squinting those magnificent eyes. Deans breath came out shaky, eyes still glued to the boy.

"Who are you?" He whispered, barely moving.

The boys eyes widened, shock filling his features. "You can see me?" He asked, moving closer. Dean was still frozen. He felt a freezing hand on his shoulder, twirling him around. The boy was right behind him, closer than Dean would've thought possible. He was slightly shorter than him, but had eyes that calculated every detail of Deans face.

"Who are you?" Dean asked again, confidence growing.

"My name is Castiel. Yours?"

"Uh, Dean. My name is Dean. Are you a ghost?" He asked. He knew what his father did, but it never occurred to him that this is part of what he hunted.

Castiel nodded, moving a bit back. "I died a few years ago, but I still age normally. I do not know why I am still here, and I know what your father does. But you are not like your father, you are nicer than him. Will you help me?" Castiel asked, stepping forward so he was chest to chest with Dean.

"Uh, where's your body?" Dean asked, trying to remember what his father told him.

"I do not remember my life. I only remember my name and age." He sighed, resting his head on Dean's chest. He froze, Castiel's freezing presence ever so clear now he was touching Dean. Castiel stepped back, eyes scrunching again. "You are very warm for a human." He commented, resting his head on Dean again.

"You're so solid, Cas. I can call you Cas, right?" Dean said, slowly wrapping his arms around him.

"That...would be nice." Cas replied, getting closer to Dean. "I do not know what it is about you, but I feel as though our souls are connected somehow," Cas whispered, glancing at Sam's sleeping figure.

"Mm," Dean hummed, resting his head and Cas's, feeling like he found home. "I don't get close to people much, so yeah, I know what you mean," they sunk to the floor, Dean's back resting on the cabinet. Cas had moved to put his head in Dean's lap, closing his eyes as Dean ran his fingers through his hair.

"Go to sleep, Dean. I'll come back when you call." Cas whispered, and Dean's eyes slipped closed.

When he woke, Cas was gone.

He didn't see Cas for another 5 years.


	2. Anger Rises

Age: 13

Everything was chaos. Dean was scrambling around with Sam, trying to find the bones of the ghost they were hunting while John was fighting the ghost himself. This was Sammy's first hunt, and Dean's 43rd. It was a simple case, deaths cropping up and ending up being connected to this one ghost. But it had taken care to hiding its bones. When they find them, Dean gets a not so pleasant surprise.

~•

"Sammy, c'mon!" Dean yelled, grabbing his brothers hand.

"I thought I saw someone," he shook his head, hair flopping into his eyes.

"That doesn't matter now, we've got to find this bitches bones before she kills dad!" Dean ran down the abandoned houses steps, following all the way down to the basement. Sam was right behind him.

"They're down here, I know they are!" He shuffled some bricks out of the way, finding what looked like a femur. "Here they are!" Dean spun around and dug in his bag for the lighter

"D-Dean," Sam paled, pointing in Deans direction. Dean stood slowly, grabbing the gun from his bag. He twirled on his heel, gun pointing. The stranger put his hands up in surrender.

"Dean" he said, piercing blue eyes gazing into his own green, and suddenly Dean was very, very happy and very, very pissed.

So Dean emptied five rounds into Castiel's chest, not flinching once.

Cas looked down at his chest to where he had been shot. He squinted at Dean. "Why would you do that?" He asked, head tilted.

"You honestly don't fucking know? I called to you, and you never came back! I screamed for you each and every night until I got beaten black and blue! Where the fuck were you, Cas?" Dean fumed and turned to his brother, ordering him to burn the body.

"I'm sorry, time is different on the other side. I did not realize I was gone that long, it felt like a mere five minutes."

"Yeah, well try five years," Dean snarled, and Cas stepped back.

"We met once, Dean, why are we so affected by each other's presence, or lack there of?" He asked, head tilted again.

"Why are you asking me?! I don't know, it's like we have that 'profound bond' thing or whatever you said," Dean sighed, running one hand through his hair and the other on his hip. "Why us? Why you? Why me? Hell, I hunt things like you!" Dean yelled, flailing his hands.

"But we don't even know what I am!" Cas yelled, eyes glowing suddenly.

Deans own eyes widened. "C-Cas, your eyes are glowing,"

Cas blinked, then closed his eyes. Dean still could see the light from behind Cas's eyelids.

"Dean, dad's coming!" Sam ran from stairs, running back to his brother. Dean had forgotten where they were, and was very terrified for Cas.

"Cas, you've got to go! If my dad sees you, he'll shoot you without question! Go!" Dean whisper-yelled, shoving Cas and looking behind his shoulder, Johns voice calling for Sam and Dean.

"Dean, Sam? C'mon, we need to get back to the motel!" He voice thundered like his steps on the creaky stairs

"Cas!" Dean hissed. He finally shoved him into a closet, slamming the door shut just as John came down.

"You okay down here?" He asked, eyeing the room. Dean moved away from the closet, forcing himself not to glance at it in order not to make John more suspicious than he already was.

"What took so long?" He asked, a harsh glare pointed towards Dean. He figured he was gonna get hit again tonight.

"It was my fault! We couldn't find the bones and when we did I kept dropping matches and I'm sorry," Sam came forward.

"Sam!" Dean hissed, pulling his shoulder back. He was not going to let Sam take blame for someone he was affiliated with.

"No dad, it wasn't him, I got too distracted..." Dean trailed off, not sure how to finish it. "By what, Dean?" John asked calmly, but his eyes were flashing dangerously.

"Um,"

"By what?" John ground out, fists clenching. Dean tensed his shoulders.

"He got distracted by me," Cas said, opening the closet door and stepping out. "Cas!" Dean said desperately.

"Who the fuck are you?" John whirled, rifle pointing at Cas's heart.

"My name is Castiel, I-" he didn't finish his sentence before John emptyed five bullets into his chest.

"Dad!" Dean ran forward and tried grabbing the gun, but John threw him back, making him slam into the wall behind. Cas's eyes started glowing, an angry slant to his face.

Cas stepped forward, even though he was much shorter than John, he was just as harsh. "I do not understand how you could just throw your own children around like ragdolls. Your oldest is forming into a solider after you, and your youngest resents you for making him live this life. You go out to drink your sorrows away and come back to your kids drunk, making your oldest so terrified of you that even when you're sober he doesn't have a voice against you and your youngest have more anger than a nine year old should have. I may not remember my life before I died, but I know that how you treat your children is not the way parents should be." Cas finished his rant, stepping up to the gun.

"So, try to kill me, do everything you can. Holy water, silver, salt, bullets, iron, go ahead. It won't fucking work, because I am connected to Dean in a way so private that the only way for you to understand is if you had your wife back," He spat, grabbing the gun and pulling the trigger until every last bullet was used.

"You cannot kill something that doesn't even know what it is itself," Cas finished, stepping back. His eyes were still glowing.

John grabbed Cas' collar of his shirt. "You stay away from my son, or I swear to God I will find a way to torture and kill you," he growled, pushing Cas back.

"Good luck," Cas spat, moving over to Dean and grabbing his hand, standing side by side with the brothers. Dean held back firmly, staring up to his father. Sam grabbed Deans hand.

The three of them held strong. A nine year old, A thirteen year old, and a boy-ghost.

John stood there staring at his sons dumbfounded."Dean?" He asked, looking at his son.

"You can't make me into something I'm not, dad. I won't become your solider. I'm tired of you coming back drunk, always angry that I didn't do this, or I should've done that. I'm sorry you lost mom, but you weren't the only one," he said, glancing at Sam. "I don't even remember her," Sam added, and Dean nodded. "You had more time with her, I got four years, Sam got way less than that. She wasn't only yours to lose." Dean finished, looking over to Cas who nodded.

John just shook his head. "I'll be in the car," he muttered off, going up the stairs.

"Thank you, Cas," Dean hugged him tight, burying his head into his collarbone. Cas hugged back just as tight. "You're welcome, Dean," Cas said, pulling away.

"Will you be coming with us?" Sam asked, eyes hopeful to have a new friend. Cas smiled unsurely down at him, and then to Dean. "Only if I'm wanted," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Of course, Cas! You'll always be welcome," Dean said, clapping him on the back.

They started up the stairs, and Cas whispered a faint thank you.

This wasn't over, they all knew that, but it was better, for now.

Dean had found his voice. It had taken a ghost-boy to do it, but he had found it.


End file.
